Chapter 1

Archades

"I don't like it here."

Henri for a brief moment took his gaze off the distant skyline of Archades, the city of his birth, and instead turned his deep blue eyes on his little sister.

They had traveled quite a distance by foot even by his exceedingly rough attempts at estimating it and yet little Adela, who had only just turned six years, had not once complained. Until now it seemed.

"This is home. We're home," he said quietly, sinking down until he knelt at his sister's side.

Adela's head of vibrant and loose golden curls didn't turn to face him, instead it seemed to sink lower to the ground. "Feels wrong here. I want to go home. Real home!"

"I know. I'm trying. We just... we just got to get inside the city. We'll find old Thomas - remember him?"

His little sister nodded fiercely at the familiar name.

"Well, we need to find him in the old quarter. He'll help us!"

"Then we go home?"

Henri let a small smile creep the edges of his lips upwards. "Yeah. We're going home. Mom and Dad will be so worried about us by now."

"I don't want them to be angry! We're not meant to go past the door!" Adela blurted out in a rush with her own warm blue eyes finally meeting her brother's gaze at last.

"They won't. Promise. We didn't have a choice in the matter. Remember?"

Henri turned his attention to the road ahead and grimaced at the dark ominous rain clouds he'd spotted earlier starting to burst their downpour over the countryside in the distance.

Without blinking, he took off his own light cloak with hood and draped it over Adela's own. She needed more protection from the elements then he did.

After all he was nine years going on ten. He needed to keep her safe until they could find their way back to their parents.

Henri took a firm grip of Adela's tiny hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Let's go, eh? Not too far now. Mayhaps we'll reach the outskirts before twilight."

They set off along the winding road that led to the distant walled city of Archades, disappearing easily among their fellow tired and dusty travelers, their small stature helping them achieve that task with little fanfare.

Thomas Buh Farmisa was not a man used to guests. He'd spent the majority of his adult life in work that was not conductive to pleasant interactions with others.

He'd worked hard however, earned his Chops, and even had once been counted amongst the finest at the Draklor laboratory.

Not so now.

He'd seen the writing on the walls early and left with enough time that he could continue his work in a small slummy home he'd purchased in Old Archades, hidden from the oversight of the young Emperor and his ever watchful Judges.

Therefore it surprised him greatly when a number of small raps had struck his door.

It had turned into a terrible night with wind and rains lashing the city and its luckless inhabitants. Not a night for visiting indeed.

He'd cautiously opened the heavy front door and was again immensely puzzled to find a pair of children peering up at him. Drenched and very sorry looking but children none-the-less.

Thomas had made to send them on their way when the boy forced passed him into the house dragging the small girl in his wake.

"We need shelter, sir. For the night at least."

"I'm no charity. A shelter for the poor lies a mere two streets over. The Alley of Silence," Thomas retorted.

The boy glared at him. "Thomas Buh Farmisa, we will be staying here and you will listen to my tale. You will find it most interesting."

"And how so?"

"Your life's work. We came here because of it. We need your help to go home again."

Thomas sat at the kitchen table idly watching the boy make sure his sister was fed and fed well.

To Thomas's initial insult and later fascination, the boy had taken one look at what Thomas had initial offered before discarding it.

The child... this Henri... he'd set about making a bowl of some strange foreign food from what was in Thomas's kitchen, a meal that he'd claimed was taught by his mother and would help keep the girl well.

And yet made none for himself, Thomas noted.

Henri was soaking wet. Far more than the girl, Adela. Thomas saw immediately how this state of affairs had occurred.

The boy fussed over his sister like a mother cockatrice and Thomas, in spite of himself, grudgingly offered what clothes he could that would fit them to replace their own when he saw how desperately they both shivered.

So now Henri wore some of Thomas's tatty work-gear while Adela had one of his more valuable shirts on as a dress.

"We have much to discuss," Thomas pressed when Henri started to clear the bowls from the table.

"Of course. If you would be so kind as to wait, I would like to get Adela to rest first."

Thomas noted the implication in his words - things that were not fit for a child her age to hear. Laughable considering how young Henri was and that he had spoken those very words.

"Please do. When you return I shall have some teas ready."

The cups Thomas had poured not half an hour before sat unfinished on the wooden table as Henri's tale came to its conclusion.

Henri's voice wavered as he added "I didn't know where else to turn. There's no one who would even believe me. Except you."

"It is quite... unbelievable."

"But you do believe me, right? You are my only hope of rectifying this."

Thomas peered at Henri, seeing the stark honesty mixed with fear on his face.

"Is this why you didn't want Adela here?"

Henri's head ducked low. "She thinks I have a plan. She believes that I will get her home but... if you can't help us than I don't know what to do."

Thomas waved his right hand in a vaguely soothing gesture. "Rest easy, Henri. I'll help you."

"You will?"

"I believe you are indeed telling the truth. If my work got you here than it will get you back home."

Henri's carefully austere face burst out in an almost infectious broad smile.

"Thank you! Thank you so very much!"

Thomas sniffed. "Get yourself to bed, Henri. You'll need lots of rest as we'll start work in the 'moro."

The boy, after more profuse declarations of gratitude, finally rose from his seat and stepped lightly across to the closed door that led to the room he would share with Adela.

He paused briefly with one hand pressed on the wooden frame before he turned to Thomas.

"How did you know I was telling the truth?"

Thomas snorted. "You look like him. Act like him. Your father I mean. Go on. Get some rest."